The Time Mechanic

by Victoria Bastedo

  “But what are you going to do?” Ffip demanded; coming and clutching his arm.

  “I’m going after him!” Jeremy said.

  She looked at him and her face was tense. He saw it all when their gazes connected. She understood what was going on here but she also understood him. He wondered if she could tell that he’d developed feelings for her. He frowned and shook his head.

  “I’ve got to go,” he added, but he took a moment to stroke her cheek. “Ffip, will you do something?”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Go get your Steam Eagle. Stedland will lend you use of his carriage. The College is just a short distance from the inn QuRellon is staying at. Will you meet me there? I’ve got a feeling we might need your invention.”

  When she nodded he turned away and walked out of the empty warehouse. Frustration was radiating through him. He heard Olpher barking a few orders from behind him but he didn’t turn back to see. It was only as he reached the street and noticed people beside him that he glanced over.

  He found Mars, Nemeth, several constables and, hurrying to catch up, Kannikey- who’d apparently slipped away without her stepfather’s notice. From the side he saw that Ffip and Halbernon were climbing into Stedland’s carriage and heading off to the college.

  The constables had their own horses so Jeremy and Mars climbed up into Kannikey’s carriage. They set off for Tonturin’s finest inn after a brief discussion. Kannikey urged that they should try to think of where the Steam Eagle might be instead of going to the Inn after QuRellon. They could capture the poison and secure it, so it couldn’t be a threat anymore. Jeremy felt that QuRellon himself was the greater threat if left to escape.

  “Besides,” he said, “After he’s captured we can question QuRellon and make him tell us where the Steam Eagle is.”

  They were quiet as they drove, but something was pressing against Jeremy’s mind. Knowledge settled there that had to do with risk. Like when he was first chosen to be the Time Mechanic he understood something now; he had a choice. If he continued down this path the likelihood was high, for in order to ensure the enemy was stopped a cost must be spent. He might die today. He frowned and opened his eyes, pushing away the near-vision and the waves of persistent knowledge.

  “I already made my choice,” he muttered. At his words the foreshadowing of risk faded to the back of his mind but a vision like the ones he usually saw froze him to his seat.

  In this vision at last he saw a scene that was clear and pertinent to their mission. He saw QuRellon and Serrin having a discussion about the Steam Eagle. They were standing in the warehouse and staring at their Eagle. Jeremy guessed this conversation had happened recently, maybe even the day before.

  “On the day of the festival there’s a problem with the flight of this contraption,” QuRellon was saying. “We can’t lift it from this warehouse and set it off. Because you didn’t procure the proper design my Steam Eagle is difficult to steer. It needs to fly primarily in a straight line.”

  “I’m sorry I was unable to get the designer, sir. I believe it was prevented by that man I told you about, the one that attacked me. He can fight really well, I told you. He must’ve taken the girl before I could get her.”

  “Quit making excuses. You failed and that complicates our flight. We need to set the Eagle off from a location outside of Tonturin and then fly it directly over the populace. We can land it in the hidden fields you rented.”

  “But we can set if off from my yard!” Serrin said. His voice was eager to make amends for his mistake in letting Fillipi get away. “We can fly it in a line from my property over Tonturin to the hidden fields!”

  “Hmmm,” QuRellon said.

  “Also, sir, remember that my property is just a few miles away from the Inn you’re staying at! You can leave from the Inn to reach the Steam Eagle easily on the day! It’s perfect!” he enthused.

  “Be silent. So I can think,” QuRellon snapped. Jeremy thought that the man didn’t like that Serrin had any good ideas that he hadn’t thought of first. The vision faded but left Jeremy with the knowledge of where exactly Serrin’s property was located in relation to the Inn.

  Jeremy jumped as he came out of it.

  “We’ve got to hurry,” he muttered. He felt as if his enemies had a head start on them.

  “What did you say?” asked Mars from beside him.

  Jeremy relaxed his shoulders and turned to him. If time was running out here was something he should deal with. This situation was something he shouldn’t leave unsettled forever. It wasn’t fair to Mars.

  “Instead of answering, let me ask you a question,” Jeremy said.

  “Go ahead.”

  “What do you really have against me?” Jeremy demanded. “I’m not whining now, or trying to apologize. I simply want to know. Why are you so angry with me?”

  Mars glowered over at him. “You’re so smart but you really have no idea, do you?”

  “I don’t.” Jeremy shook his head.

  “And you’re not bothering to tell me I’m unjust to hold something against you?” demanded Mars.

  “I assume you must have a reason,” said Jeremy.

  “That’s what makes me so mad,” Mars growled. “You don’t think you should fight for my opinion to change about you.”

  “Not true. It feels like I’ve been fighting with you for weeks. I just punched you in the eye a short while ago.”

  “You’ve been fighting to have your way in this strange situation you’ve involved us all in. So you can sacrifice yourself as a Time Mechanic. That’s different.”

  “So you’re angry I became the Time Mechanic?”

  “No. Allowing yourself to become the Time Mechanic was a natural progression from where you were headed before. You were already determined to throw away your life. Being a Time Mechanic gives you an excuse.”

  Jeremy stared at him. He was beginning to see, but instead of feeling sorry, he just felt more stubborn. His tone turned a notch colder.

  “Are you’re angry I didn’t live up to my full potential?” he sneered. “I didn’t open the shop with you and make us both wealthy?”

  “That you left the shop plans behind so easily means that the shop was my dream and not yours. I’m happy with my own success now, Jeremy. I don’t want your ride to wealth.”

  “Then what did I do wrong; say it!”

  “You wretch— I’m angry you didn’t allow yourself any dreams of success!”

  “Maybe all I wanted was a simple life,” Jeremy said.

  “Maybe that’s all you thought you deserved!”

  Now Jeremy felt surprise. “What?”

  “I’m angry because I invested so much into our friendship and you didn’t think you were worth it. Instead of arising stronger from my investment you sank down and gave no value to it. You’ve got a responsibility you know, Jeremy— to me, to Uncle Tov, and even to your parents. You’re supposed to live well and try to accomplish something with your life. You’re supposed to find rest so our effort wasn’t wasted.”

  Jeremy turned away. Mars didn’t know, he thought. He didn’t understand the truth. Jeremy contemplated explaining it but Kannikey turned to them with a sigh and sympathy in her eyes.

  “You two will have to talk of this later,” she said in a soft voice. “There’s the Inn.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight (In Which Jeremy Has a New Admirer for His Coat)

  A few minutes later, inside the elegant restaurant of Tonturin’s finest Inn, QuRellon sat back, chewed, and swallowed the last bite of a tender steak cooked to perfection, dabbed a neatly trimmed mustache with a white linen napkin, and laughed.

  “Now, what was it you’re accusing me of again?” he asked Olpher.

  The constable turned, a little flustered. “These gentlemen here have helped to uncover a plot against the city of Tonturin,” he explained, pointing out Jeremy, Mars, and Nemeth. “They’ve found baskets of a virulent poison inside your warehouse and used a botanist to confirm that the pr
oduct Surebelow is nothing more than the antidote! The poison was to be released during the Festival tomorrow, so the sick populace would pay all they had to be cured!”

  “Ah,” said QuRellon. “Supply for created demand. Efficient, but cruel, I’m sure. I’m deeply troubled, of course.”

  “Deeply troubled!” said Olpher.

  “To hear that my new friend Serrin is capable of concocting such a scheme,” said QuRellon, taking a sip of wine.

  “But you’re implicated too!” the constable bellowed.

  “Am I?”

  “You planned the whole plot with Serrin.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” the man said with a polite smile. “Serrin owns the warehouse, does he not? He owns the patent to Surebelow and hired the workers and all the rest? He’d be the only one implicated.”

  “But you stole the engineer’s design for the Steam Eagle!” sputtered Kannikey. “That came from Tetoross, your own city!”

  “The design for the Steam Eagle you say? I believe I was looking over such a design one evening. My friend from the college, the engineering professor there, left his designs behind on accident. Serrin was visiting me at the time and must’ve taken them without my knowledge. I thought, of course, he’d gained permission for the design when he had the Steam Eagle built.”

  Jeremy stepped forward with a clenched fist and pounded the table. The cutlery jumped and one of the wine glasses toppled with a clash to the floor. “You’re lying about everything,” he growled. “You were the one that developed the poison for you found it growing in Tetoross when you were a young man. You poisoned the populace of your own city back then— killing your parents in the process. You saw the Steam Eagle designs and realized how they could be of use to you! Then you urged Serrin and convinced him to escalate your plans, dazzling him with the picture of profit! You used him to buy the warehouses, used him to get investors to pay for Surebelow, and used him to have the Steam Eagle built! But the plan was all yours!”

  QuRellon grew still and met Jeremy’s stormy gaze with narrowed eyes. For the first time he really looked at him. His eyed roamed up and down his form. “Nice coat,” he said.

  They were interrupted when the manager of the Pinafore Inn came to speak to them.

  “Excuse me, everyone,” he said. “But the sight of a group of constables is concerning my other customers. I’d be grateful if you’d remove this discussion to the outside of this Inn.”

  “Never fear,” replied QuRellon. “Since these constables have no proof against me, they’re about to leave.”

  “We may not have proof, yet,” corrected Olpher. “You’ve admitted Serrin is a friend and you’ve been an investor in his product.”

  “Well, if you’re arresting all investors in Surebelow, you’ll have quite a list to get through, including the manager here of this fine establishment.”

  “I never said I was arresting you, sir,” corrected Olpher. “Your actions bear scrutiny and at the least, an interview down at the constable’s headquarters.”

  QuRellon sighed and stood up. “If it’s an interview you want,” he said, looking slightly ruffled. “I’ll be happy to grant you one, at my earliest convenience. But I’ll not be attended through the streets of Tonturin as if I were a criminal. This means, gentlemen that you’ll leave now and I’ll follow as soon as I’ve paid my bill.”

  “My constables and I have much to see to,” Olpher finally conceded. “We’ll remove ourselves… at least mostly. I’ll leave one man here at the door to assist you until you arrive at our headquarters,” and here he gave a cold smile, “in case you get lost.”

  Jeremy watched as the men switched places. The manager of the Inn bowed at QuRellon and backed away. Olpher leaned down and murmured in one of his men’s ear, and that man went and stood at the door to the restaurant with an eye on QuRellon. Then the constables left.

  It was strange to stand there, Jeremy thought, once it was just QuRellon, himself and his friends facing each other. The man brushed down his coat and pulled on his cuffs.

  “I’ve heard about you, young man,” he said in a low voice to Jeremy, “from Serrin. According to him, you’re an uncouth, violent individual, who must’ve wasted years of your life honing your fighting abilities.”

  “So I’ve impressed him then?”

  “You scarred him. There’s a line of stitches across his stomach and burns that permanently shriveled the skin on his leg and one shoulder. One could say that you impressed him deeply.”

  “And yet I’m not the one who was arrested,” Jeremy said.

  “That may come later. I intend to give my friend, Serrin, some counsel at the constable’s headquarters, in case he’s been falsely accused.”

  “And then I suppose, you intend to leave Tonturin and Serrin behind, once you’ve threatened his existence if he speaks against you, correct?”

  “Tonturin may still be graced by my presence,” QuRellon smiled. “But later.”

  Jeremy stepped forward and grabbed his arm.

  “I wouldn’t count on that,” he growled. “The constables may have left you here, but I haven’t. I’ll stop you.”

  “Remove your hand before I call for the manager.”

  “Why should he come when you call?”

  “We’re old friends. He owes me a few favors.”

  Jeremy glanced over and saw that the manager was indeed waving over a few of his wait staff and a large man who came from the back kitchen.

  “I don’t need to fight with the manager,” Jeremy replied, removing his arm. “Let’s just get you to that interview. Once the constables have you in their headquarters, I intend to make certain that you don’t leave a free man.”

  “And how do you intend to do that?”

  “You must’ve wondered,” Jeremy said. “How I knew to find those hidden fields the poison was grown in? How did I oppose you in the first place? And finally, how did I lead the constables to Serrin’s warehouse and teach them your whole plot?”

  “Serrin may be afraid of you, but I’m not,” QuRellon said.

  “If I was able to gather all that proof against Serrin, don’t you think I’ve got proof against you as well?”

  “If you had any proof you would’ve produced it by now.”

  “I just haven’t had time yet. It was getting to Serrin first, and then you— one wretched, inconsequential, criminal mastermind at a time.”

  QuRellon narrowed his eyes at him again. Jeremy could see he was being measured. He was tempted for a brief second to tell this man that he was the Time Mechanic. But the fellow wasn’t worth it. This secret was easy to keep. At last he noticed a flicker of expression across QuRellon’s eyebrows. The fellow had finished processing the threat. He held up one hand in mock surrender and reached the other hand inside his jacket pocket.

  “I’ll pay my bill then before we go,” he said. He stepped a few feet away from Jeremy and the others. Instead of pulling out his wallet from his inner suit pocket he took out a small bottle. He paused next to a table by the door.

  At the table, a family of four was having their dessert. They were an appealing family, all with pitch-black hair, shining dark eyes, and smooth brown skin. The father was young and proud of his wife and children, according to the fond look in his eye. The wife and her little daughters were all dressed in fine clothing and their hair was clipped back and frothy. They were enjoying a party, for they had fancy cake on little plates in front of them.

  QuRellon looked over at the family, and when his gaze returned to Jeremy’s the expression on his face had completely changed. Jeremy felt a chill as QuRellon held up the small bottle and removed its cork. “I wonder if you can guess what this is,” he said. “My friend Serrin gave it to me in case of emergencies.”

  Jeremy thought fast. Judging by the look on the man’s face there was no doubt about the contents inside the bottle. “It’s the poison,” he replied, his voice hollow. Jeremy was suddenly angry at himself. What had he been thinking, threatening the man
that way? Had he let QuRellon trick him into revealing his intentions? Had he really stood there convincing the fellow there was real danger before the swine was captured in a cage? Any damage QuRellon managed to do before he was arrested was Jeremy’s fault.

  QuRellon laughed and lifted his arm and Jeremy acted. He launched himself, his coat wide open like a sail, and tackled down over the little family and their table of treats. He hoped he’d managed to get between QuRellon and the splash of poison the man threw at them.

  Landing on the table hurt a lot. It pitched him over onto the floor into a pile with the family and their cake and tea and cups and plates. The baby girls were crying and the mother was grabbing them up. All around the restaurant Jeremy could hear people exclaiming and gasping. Mars hurried over and helped the mother and her children out of the mess, and Nemeth pulled up the father from the floor and the wreckage of the table.

  “QuRellon!” Jeremy gasped, flinging a look over by the door. He saw the manager standing in place looking worried, the big bouncer shaking out his meaty paw, and the constable that had stood at the door lying on the ground. The constable had been punched. QuRellon had gotten away. But before Jeremy could chase after the man he had to deal with the small family.

  “Quick and tell me!” he yelled at the father. “Did any of the poison get splashed on you or your family?”

  “Poison!” cried the mother, and she lifted her hands to her mouth. At last the manager came over. He appeared ready to blame the entire incident on them and throw them out.

  “Don’t touch anything!” Jeremy bellowed so loud the whole large room was silenced. The manager stared at him with wide eyes. “There’s poison, I’m telling you!” Jeremy went on. “It’s extremely potent, even if you just breathe it in! In fact, everyone get back! There may still be fumes in the air!”

  Everyone was removed from the center of the mess by the insistence in his voice.